NightStalkers
by Tiana Misoro
Summary: This was posted before, but it's being posted again since a lot of people have been asking for it after I took it down. Ichigo's life was normal until he stepped through the front doors of a vampiric club called NightStalkers. Behind those doors lay many mysteries, danger, and even love that would change his life forever.
1. Chapter 1

Shiro stood with his toes in the soft, white sand, staring out at the ocean as waves crashed onto the shore. The sun was just about to slip under the horizon, bringing with it the safe cloak of night. The seven year old albino dared not come to this spot without being able to hide in the dark. Argentina was a rather large, sunny country, with lush greens and warm beaches. The sun shone nearly everyday tinting the native's skin a deep tan, all but him. He was the devil child, the one with demon's eyes. No one would come near him, unless it was to ram a steel pipe or a fist into the back of his skull. He was always bruised and bloody almost daily, without a mother or father to protect him. All he had was his eighteen year old brother Kaien, who was the only one who could stand to look at him. He loved his brother very much. Kaien was always there to console him, to patch him up, and in some cases, if he was quick enough, he was able to stop the beatings. Shiro sighed, eyes vacant as he stared out at the vast ocean, wishing, dreaming for a place where he could belong. Where nothing would hurt him ever again. Crossing his arms, he rubbed them for warmth as a cool, salty breeze ruffled his hair. When his hand brushed over his elbow, he winced, screwing his eyes tightly closed. The bruise burned to the touch and hot tears ran down his cheeks as it spiked up his arm and into his sore shoulder. He fell to his knees, fingers digging into the sand beneath him. His tears stained the white grains a tan color as he hung his head low. Why did he have to be different? What did he ever do wrong? He wished, pleaded for the pain and torment to stop. Why couldn't someone look at him with some other expression than hate and spite?

"My, my, a child shouldn't cry," a deep, soothing, masculine voice prickled at his ears as if carried on the wind itself. Eyes snapping wide open, Shiro turned his head to the side, searching for the owner of the voice. His gaze landed on a grouping of rather large boulders a few yards away. A cloaked figure sat perched on top of one of the boulders, one knee bent and resting on top of the rock while the other leg dangled freely. Shining red eyes stared back at him from underneath a black cloak, and Shiro inhaled a shaky breath. It was pitch black outside now, but those eyes shone like two brightly polished rubies, glowing in the dark. The small albino child felt a shiver run down his spine as he scrambled to his feet, intent on putting as much distance between him and this stranger as he could. The man watched him for a minute, amusement flickering like flames in those unnatural eyes, before jumping down from the rock. Shiro let out a choked sound of fear as the man began to move towards him, slinking along the sand fluidly, reminding the young silver haired child of a panther or a jaguar. He turned his head away from the man, golden eyes searching for a way to escape. There was no one around, no one to hear him scream.

"You have such lovely eyes child," Shiro stiffened when he heard the man speak again, sounding much too close. Turning his head forward again, his eyes widened to the size of plates, his pupils dilated in fear. A smooth, cold hand cupped his cheek, sharp nails scrapping lightly over his pale skin. The stranger was knelt before him, peering into Shiro's eyes with interest. "Your eyes are special my child," the man whispered, and Shiro flinched as a warm breath washed over his face. Gulping, he clenched his hands at his side, limbs shaking in fear.

"Wha'? I-I do...wh-who are y-you?" Shiro managed to stutter out. A small chuckle resonated from the figure in front of him, as the man's free hand came up to lower the hood of his cloak.

"I, my child, am called Draven," the man stated softly, his eyes searching Shiro's young expression. The small child stared at the man, mouth hanging open. Long dark brown hair framed a finely chiseled face. High cheek bones made the man's eyes look sunken in, shadowing them, although they still shone as bright as day. There was not a blemish on the man's pale skin, almost as pale as his own, and the man's lips were a deep shade of red, almost as if painted with blood. Shiro chuckled at his thoughts. That was just stupid. Why would someone paint their lips with blood? A finely trimmed brown eyebrow raised when Shiro shook his head. Stepping away from Draven, Shiro turned his head to gaze out at the waves.

"Why d-do you keep asking ab...about my eyes?" He questioned, not daring to look Draven in the eyes. He had never seen the man before in his life. He was sure he would have remembered someone who was as pale as he, himself was.

"You are too young to understand now, my child, but someday I'll be back. Be strong until then," Draven murmured, placing a hand on Shiro's bare shoulder. The small boy flinched at the touch, goosebumps rising on his skin.

"What m-makes you think I'll st-still be here?" Shiro questioned, pleased that his voice had steadied out some. Draven frowned, rising to his feet. His cloak fluttered in the breeze as his eyes narrowed. Silence swarmed around the two, making Shiro feel very uneasy.

"Shiro!" The call broke their staring contest, and both turned to face the newcomer. Shiro's eyes widened, and relief flowed through him at seeing his older brother running across the sand towards him. Kaien didn't pay the stranger any mind as he fell to his knees in front of Shiro, wrapping him in a warm hug. "I was worried sick! Are you all right?" Kaien questioned as Shiro buried his head against his brother's shoulder. The small albino nodded softly, as Kaien brushed his fingers through his hair. Draven watched the two brothers for a moment before a sinister expression crossed his face.

"Your eyes hold power young child, power I plan to unlock," he whispered, and Kaien turned to him for the first time. Releasing his brother, he stood and faced the man, a dark look on his face.

"And just who the hell do you think you are? What were you doing to my brother?" Kaien growled, poking the man in the chest. Draven ignored him, instead locking his red eyes with Shiro's golden orbs.

"I will obtain that power young one, and nothing will stop me," Draven whispered again, his voice carrying on the wind.

"Now wait just a minute! Hey look at me!" Kaien yelled, grabbing Draven's shoulder. The brunette turned to him, eyes narrowed dangerously. In a blink of an eye, Draven's arms were wrapped tightly around Kaien's shoulders, almost crushing the bones. Kaien let out a scream of pain when Draven bit into his neck, fangs sinking deep into the muscle, making the younger male twitch and try to squirm out of the man's grip. After a moment, Kaien went limp in the man's arms, his head tilted back. Tears fell from Shiro's eyes as he watched his brother's eyes dim, his mouth hanging open as he gasped for breath.

"R-Run Shi...Shir-o!" Kaien gasped between coughs, as his fingers twitched helplessly at his sides. Shiro whimpered, staring in horror at the scene before him. His brother was in danger, dying before his very own eyes, and he could do nothing to stop it. Draven released Kaien's neck, turning to rest his chin on the raven haired human's shoulder. His gaze locked on Shiro, and a cruel smirk twisted onto his lips as blood dripped down his chin. Shiro turned hastily, and sprinted away from the beach. He had no idea where he was going, but he had to get away from that horrible vision.

"I'll be back for you later my child," Draven's voice called out to him, wrapping him in a suffocating blanket. Shiro cried, eyes shut tight as he ran. He kept telling himself that it was all just a horrible dream, but a vacant hole had already started to open up in his chest. His brother was dead. Now he had no one.

* * *

It had been twelve long years since that fateful night, and a now nineteen year old Shiro stood rooted in the same spot as all those years ago. It was the anniversary of his brother's death, and as always, he came to that spot to pay his respects to him. Kaien had saved him that night, something he felt horrible about. Kaien had so much more potential then he did, and yet he threw it all away just to make sure that Shiro was safe. He didn't cry anymore, the tears had dried up long ago. No matter what happened, no matter the pain he was in, he just couldn't cry. Sighing, Shiro ran a hand through his hair as he let his toes dip into the water. Leaning down, he trailed his fingers through the water, his eyes closed as he let the night soak into his skin. He had never been the same since Kaien's death. He'd become cold, and barely ever spoke to anyone. Since he had grown and become stronger, the beatings had stopped. Now people just skirted around him, afraid to get too close to the "pale demon" as they called him. "I miss you Kaien," he whispered softly, before turning to leave. He missed the shining green eyes that watched him from behind the very rocks Draven had first appeared on.

Shiro stuffed his hands into his pockets as he made his way back to his home. It was a sticky, hot night outside, so he quickly stripped down and climbed into bed. He didn't sleep, instead staring up at the ceiling for what seemed like hours, until his eyes felt like sand. Closing his eyes, he sighed, rolling onto his side and tucking one arm under his pillow to prop himself up. When he was comfortable again, he slowly opened his eyes, only to have them snap open all the way as he darted off the bed, backing up until his bare back hit the cool wall behind him. His chest heaved as he took in gasping breaths. Green eyes peered at him from the other side of his bed, and Shiro was quite thankful to have the piece of furniture between himself and the owner of those eyes.

"Brother why do you run from me?" The voice chilled Shiro's blood and he shook his head vigorously, eyes screwed tightly shut.

"You're not real! You're dead! Not real, not real, I'm just hallucinating," he whispered, his voice trembling violently. Kaien stood from his crouched position where he had been watching his brother, and slowly moved around the bed, keeping Shiro is his sights.

"But I'm not dead Shiro. Well, not fully. Didn't you miss me?" Kaien questioned, as Shiro whimpered in fright. He really wished the wall behind him would open him up and swallow him whole. The way those green eyes shone reminded him of Draven, and he knew that the _thing_ in front of him was not his brother. "I've come to take you with me Shiro. To a place where no one will ever look down on you again," Kaien whispered, coming to stand directly in front of Shiro.

"You're not my brother! He's dead!" Shiro yelled, trying to dart around the man. Kaien growled, slamming his fist into the wall next to Shiro's head, who stared up at him with wide golden eyes. Kaien's hand moved to trace the skin underneath Shiro's eyes.

"He was right you know. You're eyes are very special," he murmured and Shiro flinched away from his touch. A scowl formed on Kaien's lips and he fisted Shiro's hair in a tight grip making the albino cry out. "I'm going to bring you with me Shiro," Kaien whispered against his ear, before leaning down to bite into the silver haired man's neck. Shiro let out a scream of pain and agony, his hands fisting into the cloak around Kaien's shoulders trying to push him off. He could feel his body weakening as blood was drawn from it. His limbs felt heavy and his head fell forward. Just before he lost consciousness, Kaien pulled away from his neck. Shiro stared up at the face of his brother, at the monster that had just killed him. For he was to die, there was no way he could survive after loosing so much blood. As he crumpled to the floor, his eye lids fluttering closed, he silently prayed for the first time in his life.

* * *

When Shiro awoke, it was safe to say that he was frightened, confused, and very, very thirsty. Pulling himself up into a sitting position, he glanced around the room. He sat in the middle of a large bed, covered with red satin sheets, black drapes hung from the posts around the frame. A dresser stood to the left of him, a large, clear jug of water resting on it's surface. Shiro scrambled out of bed and grabbed the jug. Bringing it to his lips, he drained the contents, only to find himself still thirsty afterward. He cried out, clenching his hair in his hands as he paced the room. His ears picked up whispers and then the faint sound of footsteps coming nearer. His head snapped towards the door when the footsteps stopped. The wood creaked as it was opened, and Shiro snarled at the intruder.

"Ah, you're awake," Draven stated, stepping into the room. Shiro growled, baring his teeth. He flinched when one of his teeth split his bottom lip open, and blood slowly oozed from the cut. Licking his lips, he froze. When the blood hit his tongue, the dry, cottony feeling disappeared, and he licked his lips again. "You must be thirsty, come, let's find you someone to help with that," Draven said, holding out his hand. His ruby eyes shone brightly and Shiro found himself moving towards the brunette, placing his hand in the other's. Draven smiled, before turning and pulling him out of the room.

He had killed someone that night, and found out what he had become, what his brother had become. Shiro was a vampire, a creature of the night. He had yelled and screamed when he found out, Kaien having to restrain him. He didn't want to kill, didn't want to live forever. His entire nineteen year existence had been hell, why would he want to spend an eternity like that? They hadn't even asked him, instead just forced the change on him. As time went on he became stubborn, often refusing to feed, until it got so bad that Draven or Kaien force feed him. He often got into fights with his brother about his attitude.

"Why do you have to be so difficult!" Kaien bellowed as he forced Shiro's mouth open, holding a cup of crimson blood up to pale lips. Shiro turned his head away from the cup, fighting not to breath. He knew if he smelled the blood, his control would snap and he would give in. Growling, Kaien forced his head forward again.

"I don't want it! Can't you just leave me alone?" Shiro screamed back, digging his claws into Kaien's shoulders and making the raven haired vampire hiss.

"Why don't you kill? After all they did to you, you still hold value in their lives!" Kaien yelled, forcing the blood into Shiro's mouth. The silver haired vampire choked, swallowing in order to breath. Once the cup was empty, Kaien stepped back, allowing Shiro to fall to his knees. Shiro clutched the fabric of his pants as he gasped in breaths.

"Go to hell," Shiro growled, raising his head to lock his brother with a murderous glare. Kaien snarled before turning on his heel and leaving the room, slamming the door closed behind him.

* * *

Years went by, and little by little Shiro started to lose his humanity. Something he was terrified of. He didn't want to lose the last part of him that was still human, that still cared. He didn't want to turn into a monster like Draven and Kaien. The two spent their nights massacring whole families, often just to let the blood spill onto the ground. In Shiro's eyes it was a waste. A waste of sustenance and of life, and it killed him to bare witness to it. Most of the time he would hunt alone, staying as far away from the two as he could, until it was time to rest. All three slept in the same room, albeit separate from one another, but there was little privacy. The years dragged on, decades and then finally a century passing. They had traveled a lot in that time, and had finally come to a stop in Japan. It was there that Shiro parted ways with Kaien and Draven, the two being run off the island by the Kuchiki Clan that resided in the area. After it became known of their feeding habits, the head of the Kuchiki Clan, Ginrei, ordered their banishment. Shiro was safe from the punishment, and was given the offer to stay if he so pleased, which he took happily. Draven had not been pleased by that outcome, and swore that one day he would come back. That the power in Shiro's eyes belonged to him and that nothing could keep it from him.

As time went on, Shiro began to change. He gained his humanity back, learning and perfecting the art of just taking a small amount of blood from his victims. He also learned just exactly what his eyes could do. It seemed that he could charm a person if he could form the connection. It had to be complete, direct eye contact, but after the human was charmed they would remember nothing of what had happened, meaning he could feed from the same human more than once. Those eyes could also control a victim, but only for a short period of time. Shiro never used that power, unnerved by being able to completely control someone with just a look.

He met Grimmjow on one of his hunts, and ended up getting into a fight with the teal haired vampire. After he had beaten Grimmjow into the ground, the vampire had stuck to him like a little puppy. Grimmjow was younger than Shiro by a good decade or so, but was advanced in the levels of speed and brute strength. The two became close friends, never found without the other. Until Ulquiorra came along. Then the two became three. Ulquiorra was the quiet type, always just staring. His wide green eyes soaking in everything. If anyone caught those eyes, they would become frozen, unable to move. The trio became the most known and feared of the vampiric realm. No one dared to question them, and many followed their example. That's what gave Shiro the idea that perhaps humans and vampires could coexist together without secrets. From that thought, NightStalkers was born.


	2. Chapter 2

Karakura town wasn't a large city, not like Tokyo, but it wasn't small either. It was a quaint family town that housed it's fair share of restaurants, parks, and a size-able mall. So it wasn't like anyone was complaining. Karakura had been that way for so long that people became accustomed to seeing the vast green yards and the fair amount of businesses. The inhabitants of the town agreed that there was no need to change a thing. Then the outsiders came, and everything began to change. These newcomers lived for the night. They wanted concert halls, clubs, and bars. Not long after showing up, these new comers began to build these things, and it attracted more of their kind. Drugs came into play once the buildings were up, and it wasn't uncommon to find someone selling them at any given corner or alleyway. It brought more men that prowled the bars and clubs, and hit on the young girls who had lived in Karakura their entire life. The women that showed up brought with them shorter skirts and low cut tops. And, if you walked around the part of town that these newcomers inhabited, it was common to be approached by a slutty looking woman offering a good time for a price. Why wasn't anyone taking a stand against the outsiders you may ask. It was simple. The towns mayor, Sousuke Aizen, knew the kind of money these outsiders pulled into the town. It lowered taxes and brought more customers to the existing businesses. It also lined his pockets nicely as well. Aizen wasn't a corrupt man, but he wasn't stupid either. So whenever someone did voice an opinion against these new patrons, he would quickly stamp it down with a lecture about economics.

Over time the citizens of Karakura learned to adjust to life with those who craved the nightlife. There wasn't really much of a change. The regular citizens had free reign of the town during the day, and were able to go about their regular lives without much of a change. Once night fell, and most of the town was a sleep, was when the others slithered out from the shadows and prowled the town. They mostly stayed at the northern most corner of the town where they had chosen to build their hot spots. At the center of it all stood a three story club called NightStalkers. On the outside it looked like just a regular brick building with a few neon signs hanging in the windows. A large crimson red neon sign hung over the front door that depicted the name of the club in large gothic print letters. Below the sign sat a set of tinted double doors whose entry was blocked by two large bouncers. These two men stood in front of the doors checking those who wanted patronage into the club. One took care of checking identification, making sure that those that entered followed the club's 18 or older policy. The other was in charge of placing a white wristband that had the club's name printed on it in black letters on those that were old enough to drink and held the door open for those old enough to enter.

After gaining entrance into the club, the first room to be entered was small and painted a rich royal blue. Black sconces hung from the walls, casting a dim light over the room. There were two doors along the far wall; one led to the main floor of the club while the other led to a flight of stairs that spiraled up to the second floor. This part of the club was restricted to only VIPs and their guests. There were very strict restrictions to gaining VIP access. The reason being, the only VIPs were vampires, yes vampires, and their guests were humans that they had lured in with their charms. The club was a place for vampires to find their next meal. They never killed any of the humans, the owner of the club forbid it. Instead they would mark their choices and take only a small amount from the unsuspecting human in their arms. Once the human was marked, no other vampire could touch them. This stopped arguments and fights that were usually caused by a vampire touching another's favorite.

The third level of the club was a forbidden area. It held the offices and employee lounge. Only the owner of the building and the employees were allowed on this floor. The main office was behind a set of polished gold double doors. Above the doors, engraved into the stone archway, was the name of the owner, Ogichi Shirosaki. The white haired, white skinned man was hundreds of years old, one of the oldest of his kind, and he still looked to be at the ripe age of 25. His strange eyes, golden irises surrounded by a sea of black, were not given much thought after seeing some of the attire worn by the more extravagant club goers. This club was his little experiment. He wanted to see how well vampires could coexist with humans. Due to his little experiment, the great Shirosaki spent most of his time on the second floor of the club, sitting near the cast iron railing, overlooking the main floor from his seat on a high-backed wooden chair with plush, red velvet cushions. Two chairs sat on either side of his, seats for his second and third in command. On his left sat a muscular, teal haired man that went by the name of Grimmjow, his second in command. On his right sat a smaller, slimmer raven haired male with vivid green eyes called Ulquiorra, his third in command. The three of them could often be found watching the events taking place on the lower level of the club.

The main level of the club housed a decent sized bar that ran along the length of the far wall. Black velvet stools stood in place at the counter, and black tea light candles ran along the length of the top of the bar. In the center of the room was a large wooden dance floor, and at the back of the dance floor stood a small booth reserved for the DJ. Speakers hung from every corner of the room, letting the music consume every last inch of space. Lined around the outer most edge of the dance floor were lights, built into the floor. Surrounding the dance floor were dozens of small circular tables that sat four. Red and black velvet cushioned chairs circled the tables. Each table was covered by a black table cloth, kept in place by a crystal vase filled with red and black roses placed in the center. Red tea light candles were placed evenly around each vase. Stone pillars sat neatly in the corners of the room, matching the stone walls. Velvet drapes hung over the windows, blocking any light from outside. The light in the club was dim, giving it the perfect setting for creatures of the night to come and play in. All and all, NightStalkers was a club of mystery and enticement.

And it just so happened that this was the club that Ichigo Kurosaki had been drug to by his over enthusiastic friend Keigo. It had all started when Ichigo let slip that he didn't care about the new hot spots in town, much to his friend's dismay.

_~Flashback~_

"_Ichigo!" Keigo exclaimedrushing to the back of the classroom where his orange haired friend sat at his desk, staring out the window. Ichigo let out a sigh, turning bored, chocolate eyes on the brunette._

"_What do you want now?" He questionedblocking the brunette from hugging him. Keigo straightenedup quickly, a grin on his face._

"_Let's go try out that new club tonight!" He exclaimed, his eyes shining brightly. Ichigo raiseda curious eyebrow._

"_Which one?" Ichigo questioned._

"_The new one, NightStalkers! I hear it's really awesome!" Keigo exclaimed. Ichigo scowled, his gaze narrowing._

"_I don't much care about these new clubs," he grumbled. It was true, Ichigo didn't care one way or the other about the new comers and the businesses they brought with them._

"_What! Oh, come on, give it a try!" Keigo pleaded, eyes big and watery. Ichigo turnedhis head, intent on ignoring the brunette. Keigo didn'tgo down without a fight however, and keptpestering the orange head until he got theanswer he wanted._

"_Fine! I'll go!" Ichigo snapped, resisting the urge to punch his friend in the jaw._

"_Yes! Oh, you won't regret it Ichigo!" Keigo exclaimeddarting off for his desk as the bell rang, and the teacher walked in._

_~End Flashback~_

So that was why Ichigo Kurosaki was standing behind the red velvet ropes leading up to the entrance of NightStalkers dressed in a pair of black, leather pants, and a dark red button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Leather straps circled his wrists and a small silver chain hung loosely from his neck (all Keigo's doing). His friends stood around him, all dressed by the brunette who stood at the front of the group staring at the building with wide eyes. Ichigo crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for the line ahead of him to move. They had been there for over an hour just waiting to get into the building. Chad, Tatsuki, Orihime, Mizurio, and Ishida were in much the same state as Keigo, all looking in awe at the building. The low bass of the music could be heard even through the stone walls. Ichigo scowled, stepping forward as the crowd moved. "Finally!" He mumbled to himself as the doorway to the club came into view. As they got closer to the doors, the music became louder, amplifying every time the doors opened. Once their little group made it to the front of the line, Ichigo could spot the two bouncers as clear as day. Both were large, muscular men. One had black hair done up in numerous spikes, an eye patch covering his right eye. The other was a bald man of color.

The couple in front of the little group got let in to the club, and the bouncers turned towards Ichigo's little group. "ID," the bald bouncer demanded, holding out his hand. One by one, the group stepped forward, placing the small plastic identification card into the man's large hands. The man eyed each card closely, glancing up at the owner in turn. "We got seven who need wristbands," he called over his shoulder at the other bouncer after handing back the identification cards. The man nodded, stepping forward, tying a white wristband around each person's wrist. Once done, he turned, pulling open the doors to the club.

"Have fun," he stated in a gravely voice, a toothy grin plastered on his face. Rolling his eyes, Ichigo followed his group of friends into the building. Immediately, a blast of cold air hit him as he glanced around the dimly lit room. Shivering slightly, he rubbed his hands over his arms as goose bumps started to rise on his flesh. A man with silver hair and red eyes stood at one of the two doors at the back of the room, holding the door open with his foot, a wide grin on his face. He ushered the group through into the main level of the club. Before Ichigo passed, he glanced at the other door that was closed and the tall man with stick straight black hair and an eye patch covering his left eye, leaning against it. Ichigo raised a curious eyebrow, and the man tilted his head to look over at the orange head. An ear to ear grin formed on his lips as he eyed the orange head up and down. Quickly looking away from the man, Ichigo followed his friends into the building, not noticing the silver haired man gaze after him with a smirk on his lips.

Entering the club, Ichigo glanced around. His eyes soaked in every detail of the building, his gaze lingering on the cast iron balcony overlooking the lower level. A tingle slid down the length of his spine as he looked up at the balcony, the sudden feeling of being watched washing over his skin. Shivering, Ichigo tore his gaze away from the balcony in order to stumble after his friends to the back of the room towards the bar, the music thundering against his ear drums as he pushed his way through the crowd.

"A few drinks won't hurt. It might just make this place more tolerable," he whispered to himself, sliding onto one of the stools lining the front of the bar. A tall, lean blonde turned towards the orange head, a grin spreading across his lips as he tossed a white towel over his shoulder before sauntering over towards Ichigo. A weird feeling centered in the pit of Ichigo's stomach as he was reminded of the man out front with the creepy smile. The blonde stepped in front of Ichigo, leaning his elbows on the bar.

"And what can I get for you?" He questioned, tilting his head to the side, his eyes darting to look at the expanse of the orange head's neck. His eyes widened in surprise at finding the orange head unmarked. Ichigo let out a sigh, lifting his gaze to look at the bartender. The man smiled at him, waiting patiently for him to order.

"Give me a jack and coke. Please," Ichigo stated, adding the please as an after thought. The blonde nodded, moving to make the drink. Ichigo spun on his stool, leaning his elbows against the bar, as he gazed out at the dance floor. The music playing was a strange mix between techno and hip hop, nothing he had heard before. It made his body itch to be out on that dance floor, swaying his hips to the beat. His eyes closed as he let the beat of the music soak into his skin. A tap on his shoulder brought Ichigo back to reality, and he spun around to find the smiling bartender holding a glass in his outstretched hand. Ichigo reached forward, his fingers curling around the glass. Bringing it to his lips, he took a sip before setting it down. Stirring the drink absentmindedly with the straw, Ichigo turned to look at his friends. Chad and Ishida had taken to staying at the bar for the time being while the others had disappeared onto the dance floor.

"Why not go dance? I can watch your glass for you," the bartender offered. Ichigo tilted his head to look at the man over his shoulder.

"I'm not much of a dancer," he mumbled, bringing the glass to his lips.

"Perhaps you will find a good partner out there," the man stated, smiling slightly. Ichigo snorted shaking his head. A partner, yeah, that was just what he needed. The bartender shrugged, wandering over to the other side of the bar where a man with red hair was waving a twenty in the air frantically. Ichigo stayed at the bar for some time, just watching the patrons of the club. That was, until Keigo appeared from somewhere in the sea of dancers, dashing over to the orange head.

"Come dance!" He ordered, pulling Ichigo off his stool and towards the dance floor.

On the second level of the club, Shirosaki sat down in his usual seat, eyes scanning the sea of people on the lower level. His elbow came up to rest on the arm rest of the chair, his chin resting in his hand. Next to him Grimmjow and Ulquiorra took their seats. "Looks like another boring night," Grimmjow sighed, staring down at the dance floor, his teal eyes shining.

"It would seem that way," Shirosaki mumbled, running his tongue over one of his sharp canines.

"You must pick a human for the night," Ulquiorra remarked, and Shirosaki's golden eyes darted over to the raven haired male. Green eyes shone brightly back at him. Sighing Shirosaki turned back to observe his customers.

"I suppose you're right. It's just none seem that interesting," he grumbled, his eyes scanning the crowd. "Just the same boring, everyday thing," he whispered.

"That's new," Grimmjow spoke up, rising from his chair to step closer to the railing. Shirosaki's head snapped up, turning his gaze on the teal haired male.

"What is it?" He questioned, rising to stand next to Grimmjow. Ulquiorra stepped up to his side. Grimmjow reached a hand up, pointing down towards the dance floor.

"There, the shock of orange," he explained. Ulquiorra and Shirosaki followed his finger, eyes landing on a tall, slightly muscular orange haired male. Reaching his hands out to grip the balcony, Shirosaki leaned forward to get a closer look. The young man was wearing leather pants that fit snugly over long legs and curvy hips. A red wine colored shirt covered the man's upper body, only giving off a taste of the tan skin beneath; collar popped up, covering the man's neck from their view, and sleeves rolled up to the elbows. Shirosaki's eyes wandered up the man's form, stopping for a moment on chocolate colored eyes, before moving up even further to take in orange hair styled in messy spikes. Running his tongue over his lips, Shirosaki smirked, following the man's movements. The hunger began to stir in his blood, getting stronger the longer he looked at the orange head.

"I want him," Shirosaki growled out low before turning for the door that led to the lower level. Grimmjow and Ulquiorra followed after him, exchanging knowing looks.


	3. Chapter 3

Ichigo stopped at the edge of the dance floor, eyes searching the mass of bodies moving to the beat of the music thumping through the speakers. Keigo stopped when he felt a tug on his arm, and turned back to look at Ichigo. He watched as the orange head scanned the crowd for a few minutes before walking up to his friend.

"Come on Ichigo! This is a dance floor! You're supposed to be dancing!" Keigo whined, tugging on Ichigo's arm. His gaze snapping back to the brunette, Ichigo allowed Keigo to pull him towards the center of the floor. Once they reached their destination, Keigo released Ichigo, instead moving towards a green haired woman whose eyes shone a little too bright in Ichigo's opinion. The woman had a finger up, coaxing Keigo over to her. Her gaze darted to Ichigo for a moment, giving him a little wink before turning her full attention back onto the brunette.

Rolling his eyes, Ichigo turned away from the two, his gaze searching for a familiar face of one of his friends. He spotted Orihime not too far off dancing with a man with wavy brown hair and a matching goatee. He couldn't find Mizurio, but didn't think much of it. The young man was probably surrounded by a group of women somewhere. Shrugging off the worry for his friends safety, Ichigo took a deep breath, closing his eyes. He let the music wash over him, feeling the beat of the bass deep in his limbs. A relaxed sigh passed his lips as he slowly got comfortable, allowing his hips to sway to the music. The bodies around him added to the movements. Some pushed against the orange head, tempting to entice him into dancing with them, but he ignored the gesture lost in his own world.

Eyes still closed, his movements became a little more intricate, fingers skimming over the front of his shirt before curling around his neck. His other arm moved up so his fingers could run through his hair. At one point, a daring patron moved over to the orange head, wrapping an arm around his waist. The unknown person brushed their lips over Ichigo's neck, teeth skimming the tan skin at the junction where his neck met his shoulder. Eyes fluttering open, Ichigo turned to look behind him, finding nothing but a mass of leather and lace clad bodies swaying with the music. Spinning around, he looked around for the assailant, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Shrugging it off, Ichigo let the music fill his mind once again, falling back into dancing.

Making his way down into the first level of the club, Shirosaki nodded to the men guarding the two doors. The tall, lanky, black haired male held the door open for him as he stepped into the front room.

"We have a good batch today sir," the man stated and Shirosaki smirked.

"So it would seem Nnoitra," he mumbled, turning his full attention on the silver haired male holding open the door that would lead him to the delicious looking orange head.

"Any trouble down here Gin?" He questioned the silver haired male who shook his head, the grin on his lips widening.

"No trouble sir, but I did spot something interesting. Have you seen the male with the orange hair?" Gin questioned. Shirosaki nodded, a sadistic smirk forming on his lips.

"That I have. Is he marked?" Shirosaki questioned, his smirk faltering at that thought. What if he was marked? He was the one who made the rule that once a human was marked they were off limits. Even he must obey that rule.

"Not that I saw," Gin commented, and Shirosaki's grin came back full force.

"Then I best get in there and claim him before anyone else gets their fangs into him," he purred, his eyes flashing. Gin nodded, bowing as Shirosaki breezed through the door into the club. Grimmjow and Ulquiorra followed not to far behind him.

Swirling gold eyes scanned the crowded club as Shirosaki searched for his orange head. Oh, the man would be his soon enough. Slowly making his way towards the dance floor where he last saw the male, Shirosaki's eyes darted to the sides every now and then, making eye contact with the other vampires in the room. Many gave him a curt nod, others took to moving towards him, intent on gaining his attention, until Grimmjow or Ulquiorra shot them a dark glare making them back off. Reaching the edge of the dance floor, Shirosaki inhaled deeply. The mixture of sweat, blood, and the sweet scent of human assaulted his senses, the hunger raging full force in his blood. Growling low, he moved forward, easily flitting through the crowded dance floor. Behind him, Grimmjow and Ulquiorra followed, keeping an eye out for the man that their boss had chosen.

Nearing the center of the dance floor, Shirosaki started to become nervous. Where was he? He spun around frantically hoping he did not pass him at some point. Did another vampire already get to him? His blood ran cold at that thought. His hands clenched into tight fists, black painted fingernails digging into the white skin of his palms. "Sir," Grimmjow stated, catching Shirosaki's attention.

"What is it now! If it doesn't have to do with my orange haired boy, I don't want to hear it!" Shirosaki hissed, baring his fangs.

"The hunger is getting to you," Ulquiorra remarked, earning a heated glare from Shirosaki. Ulquiorra just stared at him blankly before his eyes darted to gaze over the white haired male's shoulder, eyes widening slightly. Shirosaki raised a curious eyebrow, turning to look over his shoulder. A low groan passed his lips at the sight before him. He watched the man dance, hips undulating to the beat, fingers skimming over tanned skin glistening with a thin layer of sweat, eyes closed, and lips parted just slightly. Shirosaki hungrily drank in the sight before him, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. Oh what a delicious sight the orange head made. Grimmjow watched him, smirking slightly at the obvious effect the human male had on his boss. Shirosaki stepped forward, gaze locked on the hips swaying enticingly, almost as if the movement was done intentionally to draw him in.

Once he got close enough, Shirosaki could smell the male's scent, along with another, darker scent. The scent of a vampire. His eyes narrowed, lips pulling into a snarl. His gaze flickered to the man's neck. Finding the smooth skin unmarked, he breathed a sigh of relief, moving to stand in front of the human.

Ichigo remained oblivious to the gazes on him, his entire mind and body wrapped up in the music. Not until an arm snaked around his waist, hips grinding into his creating friction that left his skin tingling, a pair of lips at his ear as someone breathed hotly into it, did Ichigo realize that he was not alone. His eyes snapped open just as Shirosaki pulled back to gaze down at him. Chocolate met gold as the two stared each other down, neither noticing that they had yet to stop their sensual dance. In fact, the arm around Ichigo's waist pulled him closer to the man, hips grinding together more viciously. Ichigo let out a slight gasp, his eyes widening to the size of plates. Shirosaki gazed down at him, eyes shining playfully. He leaned down, brushing his lips over Ichigo's neck, shivering at the feel of the human's pulse quickening against his lips.

Bringing his mouth up to the orange head's ear, he whispered sensually into it, asking, "If I asked would ya tell me your name?" He smirked against Ichigo's cheek as he felt a tremor flow through the man. Tanned fingers came up to rest against the pale man's shoulders.

Clearing his throat, Ichigo responded, "I-Ichigo, Kurosaki Ichigo." Shirosaki leaned back a smile on his lips.

"Nice ta meet ya Ichigo. Names Ogichi Shirosaki, but please call me Shiro," he purred, enjoying the light blush that appeared because of it.

Ichigo couldn't think. His brain seemed to have gone into sleep mode. He studied the man before him. Never before had he seen someone so pale, and those eyes. He shivered slightly. Those eyes that seemed to pierce into his very soul, learning all of his deepest, darkest desires. The man wore skin tight leather pants much like his own, but for some reason, Ichigo thought they looked better on Shirosaki. His eyes moved up, taking in the skin tight, dark blue shirt that seemed to accentuate the planes of the pale man's muscles. His gaze lingered on the man's lips before moving back up to bore into his eyes. Ichigo's brain started working long enough to think that perhaps coming to the club wasn't such a bad idea. Blinking, Ichigo shook his head. What the hell was he thinking? It was then that he noticed that he was still grinding against Shirosaki, his fingers gripping tightly into the fabric covering the man's shoulders. He quickly stopped moving, removing his grip from Shirosaki in favor of rubbing his upper arms, nervously bouncing from one foot to the other.

Shirosaki frowned when Ichigo stopped dancing with him, his gaze quizzical as he watched the human become nervous. Ichigo tore his gaze away from his, looking at the floor instead. Sighing, Shirosaki reached a hand up, placing his pointer finger under Ichigo's chin, forcing the orange head's gaze back up. "There's no need ta be nervous. Just one dance?" He questioned.

Ichigo chewed on his bottom lip, mentally debating with himself. On one hand he could say yes, oh how he wanted to say yes, just to feel Shirosaki close to him again. But, a more sensible part of his mind kept telling him to decline and get away from the man. He barely even knew the guy! Shirosaki's thumb came up to brush across Ichigo's bottom lip as he leaned closer. "Give it a chance. Ya might enjoy it," he purred, smirking when Ichigo let out a small groan.

At the seductive tone of Shirosaki's voice, the sensible part of Ichigo's brain got tossed out, and he stepped closer to the man, his arms resting on Shirosaki's shoulders. "Perhaps one dance won't hurt," he mumbled. Shirosaki grinned, his fingers skimming over Ichigo's sides before gripping tightly to leather clad hips.

"I'm glad ya see it my way," Shirosaki whispered hotly into Ichigo's ear, using his hands to coax the human into moving. After a few moments, Ichigo began to move on his own, earning a pleased growl from Shirosaki. He pulled Ichigo closer, needing to feel the heat pouring off the human. Mixed with the mouthwatering scent of the man, it was enough to drive the vampire to the brink of insanity.

Lowering his lips to the human's neck, Shirosaki pressed a kiss to the area just above Ichigo's pulse point, pleased when the orange head let out a breathy moan against his ear, tickling the hairs at the back of his neck. Shirosaki's lips parted, fangs skimming over the tan column as Ichigo tilted his head to the side, baring his neck to Shirosaki. Tan fingers curled into silvery locks as Shirosaki lightly pressed down, not enough for his fangs to pierce, not just yet. He didn't want to scare the man away. Ichigo shivered, pressing his body against Shirosaki's, tugging on the man's hair.

"You're teasin me," Shirosaki whispered seductively against Ichigo's neck, his tongue coming out to run along the expanse of the human's neck, smirking when Ichigo's pulse rate became rapid like a little hummingbird.

"I would say that it is you teasing me," Ichigo whispered against Shirosaki's ear. Shivering at the feel of Ichigo's lips brushing over his skin, Shirosaki willed the hunger away. It would do him no good to bite the human now. He had to wait until he could coax Ichigo into joining him upstairs in the VIP room.

Ulquiorra and Grimmjow stood off to the side, watching as their boss worked his charm on the unsuspecting human. Shirosaki was a master at it. He could seduce even the most stubborn person, this human stood no chance. The pager hooked to the belt loop of Grimmjow's jeans gave off a quiet chime, and he looked down at it. Letting out an annoyed growl, he looked back up, meeting Ulquiorra's curious gaze. "What is it?" The raven haired male questioned.

Sighing, Grimmjow ran a hand through messy teal locks. "Aizen," he mumbled, his eyes moving to glance over at Shirosaki and the human.

"He's here now of all times!" Ulquiorra hissed lowly. Grimmjow nodded, his expression becoming apprehensive.

"I really don't want to be the one to interrupt him. He's gonna be pissed to all hell," he stated, watching Shirosaki whisper into the human's ear.

"It must be done," Ulquiorra mumbled, stepping towards Shirosaki. Grimmjow grabbed hold of his wrist, stopping the smaller vampire.

"Are you insane! You can't just walk up to them! He'll skin ya alive!" Grimmjow hissed, his eyes shining dangerously.

"Watch me," Ulquiorra retorted, pulling his arm free from Grimmjow's grasp. Grimmjow watched after him as Ulquiorra stepped up to Shirosaki. Groaning, Grimmjow followed after him. He couldn't very well let his friend die alone. That'd mean more work for him.

Ichigo couldn't stop himself. It was like someone else had control over his body, like he was a puppet, someone else moving the strings. A dense fog had settled over his mind, blocking out any coherent thought that managed to get through in his dazed state. The only thing he seemed to be aware of was the man in front of him who seemed to know exactly what to do to make Ichigo's body tingle with desire. Never before had anyone had such an effect on him. Just a simple sentence whispered into his ear made him want to give into whatever the man wanted from him. "How come I've never seen ya here before?" Shirosaki questioned, leaning back to stare down at Ichigo.

"This is my first time coming here," Ichigo responded, his voice light and breathy.

"I do hope you will come more often," Shirosaki mumbled, swirling golden eyes locking with Ichigo's dazed one's, leaning down until his lips were just a hairs breath away from the human.

"Mmm, it would be hard to stay away," Ichigo whispered against the pale lips, leaning forward just enough so his lips brush against the one's placed so tauntingly close. A smirk tugged at Shirosaki's lips.

"I'm glad to hear that," he purred. He watched as Ichigo brought his tongue out to moisten his lips, the human's eye lids coming down to cover his eyes part way. Just a little further. If he could just get the human to kiss him, then Ichigo would completely be under his charm.

"Sir," a voice called, snapping both Ichigo and Shirosaki out of their daze. Looking over his shoulder, Shirosaki shot his second and third in command a deadly glare. If looks could kill the two would be nothing but a pile of burnt ash scattered over the floor of the club.

"What is it?" He hissed. His voice had become distorted, a normal occurrence when a vampire used their "gifts".

"Aizen is here. He requests to meet with you, immediately," Grimmjow explained nervously. Cursing under his breath, Shirosaki nodded, turning back to Ichigo. Stepping up to him, Shirosaki reached his hand back, fingers curling around the back of the human's neck. Resting his forehead against Ichigo's, Shirosaki stared into his eyes.

"I'm sorry, I have to leave you for a moment. Grimmjow and Ulquiorra will keep watch of you. Please don't leave this spot until I get back. I want to know more about ya," Shirosaki mumbled. Smiling when the human nodded, Shirosaki leaned back turning to face Grimmjow and Ulquiorra.

"Keep him in your sights at all times," he hissed lowly as he passed the two, heading for the door that would lead to the third level. Ulquiorra and Grimmjow turned to watch the white haired vampire storm off, clearly fuming that he was forced to leave before he could complete seducing his meal for the night. Sighing, Grimmjow turned to gaze back at the orange head, finding the male fidgeting, and looking around the room. Smirking at the human's obvious nervousness, Grimmjow walked over to him.

"How about we go get ya a drink? Ya look like ya could use one," Grimmjow offered, grinning when Ichigo's eyes darted over to him.

"Grimmjow, Shirosaki ordered him to stay here," Ulquiorra stated, stepping forward. Grimmjow turned to him and rolled his eyes.

"It will be fine, as long as we keep him in our sites. Shirosaki wouldn't want 'im getting dehydrated," Grimmjow sneered, eyes flashing with victory once Ulquiorra let out a defeated sigh.

"Fine, but we stay at the bar," Ulquiorra ordered to which Grimmjow nodded.

Ichigo stared confusedly between the two men. What the hell were they talking about? Order? Watch him? What, was he a five year old who couldn't be trusted to be left alone? Scowling, Ichigo crossed his arms over his chest, tapping his foot impatiently on the wooden dance floor. Ulquiorra noticed the movement, and turned his head to look at Ichigo. Eying the human for a moment, he sighed, heading towards the back of the club, waving a hand over his shoulder motioning for the other two to follow him. Ichigo stared after him for a minute before willing his feet to move. Grimmjow walked behind him, keeping his eyes trained on the human's retreating back. It would do no good to lose him, if he wanted to keep living for another day.

Reaching the bar, Ichigo slid into his earlier seat, the blonde bartender smiling warmly. Grimmjow and Ulquiorra stepped up to the bar, and the bartender's smile faltered, glancing between the two men.

"Shinji, get this man whatever he would like," Ulquiorra ordered the bartender who nodded, turning to look at Ichigo, waiting for his order.

"Same as last time," Ichigo murmured, crossing his arms on top of the bar, resting his chin on them. Shinji smiled slightly, turning away from the small group to prepare the drink. Grimmjow slid into the seat next to Ichigo, turning to face the rest of the club. Ichigo watched him closely out of the corner of his eye, trying to decide if he could trust the man or not.

Shinji reappeared, placing a glass in front of Ichigo, before quickly darting away at the dark look sent his way from Ulquiorra. Ichigo sighed, stirring the drink with his straw before taking a big gulp. Letting the glass rest back on the counter, Ichigo closed his eyes trying to block out the people surrounding him. Hearing another voice, his eyes snapped open, turning his head to look back at the direction the voice came from. He found a tall, curvy, well endowed female talking in hushed whispers with Ulquiorra. Straining his ears, Ichigo tried to hear what was being said.

"There's been a fight," he heard the female murmur.

"Where," Ulquiorra hissed darkly.

"At the front. You and Grimmjow are needed," she whispered back. Ulquiorra's gaze darted to Ichigo for a moment before turning back to the woman.

"We have previous orders," he mumbled.

"We need you. Have Shinji keep an eye on him," the woman hissed back.

Ulquiorra was silent for a moment before nodding. The woman waited as he turned to tell the bartender to watch the orange head while they were gone. He then grabbed Grimmjow before darting off after the woman. Ichigo watched them go, his eyebrow raised in confusion.

"Don't worry. They'll be back soon," Shinji stated reassuringly, and Ichigo turned to find him wiping out a glass with a white towel before placing it in one of the shelves above the bar.

"Oh, I don't mind. I'm kinda glad they're gone. They gave me the chills," Ichigo mumbled, taking a sip from his drink. Shinji chuckled, shaking his head.

"You have no idea," he stated, smiling slightly. Ichigo gave him a curious look, but Shinji ignored it, instead wiping down the top of the bar. A man slid onto one of the stools a little ways down the bar, raising a hand up to wave at the bartender. Shinji flipped the towel over his shoulder, walking over to the man.

Ichigo watched the bartender take the man's order before nodding and turning his back to them to make the drink. At that moment, Ichigo's world became dark as something was pulled over his eyes, and an arm wrapped around his waist, pulling him off the bar stool. Struggling, Ichigo tried to get out of the grip on him, resulting in being pulled against something hard for his effort. His attacker moved, pulling him away from the bar and into the shadows. Letting out a gasp Ichigo stilled at the feel of lips at his ear.

"Don't you just look delicious," an unknown male voice whispered hotly into his ear.


End file.
